Psyco Babble
by Caitabee
Summary: After Lewis is killed, Bobby is made to visit a psyciatrist, and the following is one of their sessions.


**Bold Doctor**  
_Italic Robert _  
Normal Normal

One shot. Psychiatrist's session with Goren. Written rather confusedly, but oh well. It was quick. I wrote most of it while I was at school watching 'Ferris Bhulers Day Off.' Damn that's a good movie…

**Good Morning, Robert.**

_Morning, Doctor._

**What's up?**

_Nothing much. The usual…_

**And what's that?**

God, how he hated the doctors always trying to get into his head. Once he had been so pissed off that he'd walked out of a session, and he was starting to get the feeling that this one was going to be much the same.

_I wouldn't be here unless I had to you know._

**I know. I read your file. The NYPD's paying, so they're making you come whether you like it or not.**

_I don't need to be here._

**Your best friend got shot dead in your house, so I think you do.**

Lewis… The emotion from his death was still raw, and it had taken weeks for him to stop crying for his dead friend. Even now, almost two months after it had happened he still felt the pain. He always would…

_I could've handled it without having to see a psychiatrist. I don't need any help._

**Why don't you think you need any help?**

_Because I don't. I'm strong enough to manage it by myself._

**It's not a matter of being strong; you have to let your emotions out. You have to show us that you can cope.**

_I can cope. I've been coping. I am coping. Just because I'm not crying it doesn't mean that I'm bottling everything up. I handle my emotions in a different way to other people._

**I know you do. I can see it in you. Why do you do it?**

_Because that's just the way I am._

He trailed off and looked around the office. There was a big window that framed the amazing view of the city, which automatically came with having an office on the 20th floor. There was a picture of the Doctor standing in front of a beautiful old oak tree somewhere. She was grinning at the camera, and behind her was a sheet of yellow, orange and red leaves.  
There were two chairs, which they were sitting on, both made of black leather, a must for any psychiatrists office.  
On the wall near the door there was a rough drawing of a cigarette butt in a gutter.

**You like it? I drew it myself.**

_It's good. What does it mean?_

**We all start off as an unlit cigarette, then someone lights us, we burn ourselves out and then we all end up in a gutter somewhere, waiting for the rain to wash us away…**

_That's deep. It makes me want to stop smoking._

**You smoke? Want to go outside and have one?**

_Sure. Why not?_

They both stood up and walked out of the office, the Doctor leading them up one floor onto the room, where they sat on some upturned crates and lit up their smokes.

**So, are you back at work yet?**

_Nah. I'm still off on paid leave. I wish I could go back though._

**You miss your job?**

_Wouldn't you miss your work if you were forced to leave it? Wouldn't you want to go back if you were forced to stay at home all day and watch old reruns of 90's sitcoms on TV?_

**I guess I would. But you're not being forced to stay at home all day. Why don't you go out?**

_Because it doesn't feel right…_

**You mean it doesn't feel right to go out without Lewis.**

_Yeah. We used to do everything together. Go out to bars, pick up women, go to the movies. But now doing those things without him just doesn't feel right. I feel like I'd be insulting if I even tried to go out._

**You wouldn't though .Do you think that he'd want you to sit around at home all day, just moping about? No, he'd want you to go out to bars. He'd want you to go and pick up women. He'd want you to go to the movies. He would want you to live.**

_But – But…_

No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with an answer that he could put into words.  
She had made a good point, but so had Alex, Deakins and ADA Carver when they'd said the exact same thing to him when they called to check up on him. They had all said the same thing, and he didn't want to do what they all said he should, because that would mean accepting the fact that Lewis was really gone.  
If he did all the things they used they did together by himself, then that would mean that his best friend would really be gone to him.

_I just can't. Not by myself._

**You need to get out with someone then. The only way you can get back to work is for me to sign the papers, and the only way that I'm going to sigh the papers is for me to make sure you're back to normal.**

_You've only known me for a month and a half. Who are you to say if I'm back to normal or not?_

**I can't. But believe me, when you're back to normal I'll be able to see it.**

_I don't think that I'll ever be the same again. Not after what happened._

**But surely you've seen worse things in your line of work?**

_I've seen horrible things, yes. But I've always been able to distance myself from them, kept a safe distance. With this it hit me right through the heart. My best friend was killed in my house, and I was the one responsible…_

**Tell me why you feel responsible. Tell me what happened.**

_It was a Sunday afternoon, and Lewis and I were at my house watching the car races. That was something we always did together when I wasn't on duty. We were sitting on my couch, and there was a knock at my door, so I got up to answer it, and the next second I had the barrel of a gun in my face…_

**What were you thinking?**

_I was thinking about Lewis, because the gunman hadn't seen him yet and I wanted him to be safe. It seemed like as soon as I thought that Lewis called out to me, asking who was at the door. Whoever it was fired the gun at my head, and the next thing I knew I woke up in hospital._

**Was anyone there when you woke up?**

_Alex and a Doctor._

**What did they say?**

_I can't remember much. Surface wound…Recoil…Lucky to be alive…Lewis…Not so lucky…Dead…Gunman…Escaped…No hope…_

Worriedly the Doctor watched him. This was the first time he had described in detail about the attack to her, and she wanted to take in every detail. The words he used, hoe he spoke, gestured, moved, looked.  
She took one last, deep drag from the smoke and then stubbed it out on the concrete, waiting for Robert to finish his before standing up and leading him back to her office.  
He once again studied the photo on her desk.

_Where was that taken?_

**At my Fathers house in Wisconsin.**

_It's nice. Autumn?_

**Yeah, my sister took it when I graduated from college. **

_You regret being so far from home?_

**No, not really. I've got a few relatives living up this way, and now New York is my home. I wouldn't leave this city for the world. I love it.**

_Really? I hate this city, but I love it. I hate it for all the horrible things, but I love it for all the little secrets it has._

**I think that the city is very much like the human mind. It's complex, and it has so many things that it can hide, but so many other things that it presents.**

_Mmm…_

**Five more minutes. Want to cut it short or keep on going?**

_Might as well finish up._

**Ok then, I'm not the one paying for it.**

_Neither am I._

**Very funny.**

_Same time next week?_

**Sure. I'll see you then.**

_Goodbye, Doctor._

**Goodbye, Robert.**

He shut the door behind him and the Doctor sat down at her desk to write up some notes. The only words that she would think to write down were,  
'He's slowly getting better. Give him a few more weeks and he'll be back at work. I'm sure of it.'


End file.
